


they call it russian roulette

by bruisedbutlovely



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Brotherly Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Exile, Family Dynamics, Forgiveness, Found Family, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, Injury, Major Character Injury, Manberg Festival on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Alexis | Quackity, Mentioned Floris | Fundy, Permadeath AU, Protective Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Wilbur Soot, Swearing, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), They/Them Pronouns for Toby Smith | Tubbo, War, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade are Siblings, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, l'manburg, manburg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27428011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruisedbutlovely/pseuds/bruisedbutlovely
Summary: Wilbur did it to protect Tommy.He didn't care if he'd die.Tommy was safe.---When Tommy and Wilbur were running away from Schlatt and his order for their heads, Wilbur got hit with an arrow. Desperate to protect his little brother, Wilbur tells Tommy to leave him behind, to take back L'Manburg without him. And even though Tommy doesn't want to, he does and leaves Wilbur behind.However, someone else finds Wilbur who somehow survived and takes him to Dream.Their name was Eret.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot, Eret & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 369
Kudos: 946





	1. the gun

**Author's Note:**

> soooooooooo new story pog? let me know if you like it because i am unsure if i should continue it!!!  
> i love every one of you and i hope you all had a nice day/night/whatever!! <33

_ Who decides who gets to live and who gets to die? _

Tommy and Wilbur sprinted through the woods, the sounds of crossbows being drawn following them like a nightmare does when you wake up. Wilbur’s grip was tight on Tommy’s wrist as he basically dragged the younger behind him. 

Ash rained down as the L’Manburg flag burned but they couldn’t stop because if they did, the arrows would rain down like the ash and Tommy and Wilbur didn’t know if they dodge that. Schlatt’s laugh rang in their ears as they fled for their lives. 

_ Is it us who decides with our choices and your words or is out of our reach, always out of our reach? _

“Go, go, go,” Wilbur yelled, yanking Tommy to the side as a flaming arrow flew past the teenager, narrowly missing him. The arrow hit a bush, causing it to be engulfed in flames and the two exiles pushed themselves out of the way. 

“No shit, Wilbur!” Tommy yelled back and they continued to run, run away from the country they built from the ground up. They were running away from everything they knew. “Wilbur, watch out!”

_ Then again, everyone has to die sometime. That’s the one thing that is constant.  _

More arrows flew past them as they sprinted deeper and deeper into the woods. Soon, the surroundings stopped being familiar as they ventured more deeper into the unknown. 

And still, they were chased by people who once saw them as leaders and then turned their backs on them as soon they lost the power. They wouldn’t stop until Wilbur and Tommy were gone, all for the new leader.

_ Everyone will die. Might as well accept it. _

“Tommy, no!” Wilbur jumped in front of Tommy at the last second and in slow motion, Tommy watched the arrow embed itself into the former president’s stomach. Screaming, Tommy reached out to catch him and it was like he could only watch as Wilbur fell.

Fell like L’Manburg. 

_ Everyone will fall. Might as well accept it. _

Wilbur hit the ground hard and Tommy fell to his knees next to him, gripping Wilbur’s jacket tightly. The blood started to seep into the blue cloth as Tommy pressed roughly against the wound, ignoring Wilbur’s whimper. 

“You gotta go, Tommy,” Wilbur whispered, staring at his brother in all but blood. “You have to go.”

  
  
_ Everyone will leave. Might as well accept it. _

“I’m not going to leave you, Wilbur,” Tommy tugged Wilbur half-way onto his lap, pressing down harder on the wound as he tried to stop the bleeding, tried to save him. “I’m just not gonna leave you.”

“You have to,” Wilbur screwed his eyes shut in pain. “Go, Tommy, they can’t catch you.”

_ Everyone will lose. Might as well accept it. _

“Go and find safety,” Wilbur whispered. “Call Techno, call Phil and try and get L’Manburg back, okay? Get it back for me.”

  
  
“You’re not going to die, Wilbur,” Tommy lied.

_ You cannot change it; you cannot fight it.  _

The others were closing in, their voices merging together underneath the leaves. Tommy tried to ignore the tears streaming down his face as he gently picked Wilbur up, dragging him over to a tree and propping him up against it. The bush by the tree hid him from anyone’s eyes but Wilbur’s eyes started to drop.

“Promise me, Tommy,” Wilbur whispered. “That you’ll move on and not dwell on the past.”

  
  
_ It is simply fate; it is simply destiny. _

“I promise, Wil,” Tommy tried to smile and Wilbur reached up to cradle Tommy’s face. The younger leaned into it, staring down at his brother. “I promise.”

  
  
“Go,” Was all Wilbur said before he dropped his hand. Tommy nodded and stood up, jogging away from Wilbur. But when he glanced back, Wilbur’s head was dropped and his eyes closed.

_ And your choices and your words cannot change that fate, that destiny,  _

Tommy choked back a sob, covering his mouth with his hand and he turned away. Trying to ignore the tears, he sprinted off, leaving Wilbur.

He ran and ran and ran, trying to get away, trying to ignore the fact that he was all alone. All alone in a world he’s barely seen, all alone with people chasing him, and all alone because the one person that said he would always be there was gone. He was gone. 

_ All you can do is watch. _

Later, the night would fall and would find Tommy tucked away in a small cave with nothing but the clothes on his back and a sword in his hands. He would be curled up in the dirt, trying to ignore the monsters outside and trying to wipe away the tears streaming down his face. The sun would rise. 

He would stay there for who knows how long, just trying to force himself to get back up and to search for Wilbur’s body but he couldn’t move and he couldn’t stand. And he couldn’t bear to go back out there and find Wilbur’s cold corpse. 

_ All you can do is hope. _

But unknown to Tommy, someone already found Wilbur. Someone already felt his cold wrist for a pulse and breathed out softly in relief when they did find one. 

Someone already picked up his limp body and started to make their way out of the forest. Someone already hid when they saw stray people out, still looking for Tommy and for the body in their arms.

_ All you can do is pray.  _

Someone already brought Wilbur to a base, hidden away where only a few can find it. Someone already set him on a bed as another brought forward a potion. Someone already pulled out the arrow before quickly replacing it with a bandage.

Someone already soothed Wilbur when he whimpered in pain in his sleep. Someone already fed him food and made him drink water. Someone already watched over him during the night, hoping he survives. 

_ It’s like putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger.  _

“Why did you bring him to me, Eret?” 

Eret glanced up from where they stared at the sleeping Wilbur, eyes boring into the lifeless eyes of Dream’s mask. They just shrugged before looking back down, dabbing Wilbur’s forehead with a damp cloth.

“You’re the only person I know who wouldn’t turn away a traitor and an exile.”

_ There is always a chance that you might get a bullet, not a blank.  _


	2. the chamber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur wakes up in Dream's base. 
> 
> Tommy writes a letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this an excuse to write wilbur angst with protective dream and eret?  
> you can't prove anything
> 
> love all of you and have an amazing day!! <33

If there was a different series of events, Eret liked to think that they and Wilbur would have been good friends.

If Eret didn’t betray them. If Eret didn’t become a king of an empty castle. If Eret never took Dream’s deal. If Eret never left L’Manburg. If Eret never pushed the button.

If Eret just stayed, maybe they could have been friends. 

“Has he woken yet?”

  
  
Eret startled, turning around in the chair they sat in by Wilbur’s bed. Dream was in the doorway to the guest room, the sleeves of his sweatshirt pushed up to his elbows as he wrapped a bandage around a cut on his arm.

Eret furrowed their eyebrows. “You’re hurt.”

“A wither skeleton got a lucky hit,” Dream waved off their concern, walking over to the other side of Wilbur’s bed. “He should have woken by now.”

  
  
“It might be better if he doesn’t wake up so soon,” Eret leaned back in their chair. “He’s gonna freak out.”

  
  
Dream simply snorted. “Wilbur’s gonna do more than just freak out. I’d be surprised if he didn’t just attack on sight.”

The two fell into silence after Dream’s words; they simply just stared down at the sleeping man. 

Wilbur’s eyes were closed but even in sleep, he looked troubled. He wore one of Dream’s old shirts and underneath it was bandages wrapped securely around the arrow wound. The wound was almost completely gone by now, taken care by a few healing potions that Dream had, and it left behind a faint scar. However, like many magical things, there was always a chance it wouldn’t work so the bandages were simply there as a precaution. 

Dream offered to tie one of Wilbur’s wrists to the bed, just to make sure he didn’t try and run.

Eret told him no. They said that Wilbur hated being tied down more than anything.

So, Eret sat there, watching over their previous leader. If anything, the two of them were now equals with Eret as a king and Wilbur as a president. Of course, that was before the election, before Schlatt, before Tommy and Wilbur were exiled.

Eret wondered where the kid was now. Hopefully hidden away where neither George nor Quackity nor Ponk could find him and execute him on the new president’s orders. He was just a kid, after all, pulled into a war he had no business fighting. Still, Tommy impressed Eret; that kid was nothing but determined. 

Tommy just didn’t do so well alone. 

Dream had visited the newly dubbed Manburg this morning before heading to the Nether for more supplies. He told Eret the different principles Schlatt had, the different ideas he wanted to enforce. The two were kind of friends so the owner of the SMP said that he was worried that Schlatt would try to extend into his land.

But Eret could tell that he was scared like everyone else. 

Schlatt was always a wild card, always a surprise. One second, he would be half asleep, talking to nothing and nobody and the next, he would be as cunning as they come, kicking out two founding members of Manburg. 

The new president, while more outspoken about his plans, wasn’t afraid to try and get what he wants. He didn’t care who stood in his way.

Dream continued on, saying that Schlatt took Tubbo as a right hand man and Eret internally winced; Tubbo was just another kid pulled into a fight. And while they and Tommy usually had each other, this time, they didn’t. The two were separated. 

However, halfway through Dream’s meeting with Schlatt, Quackity came running in.

He announced that Wilbur was dead. 

He found dried blood on a tree and there was no body to be found.

Dream would later say that Schlatt’s smile became wider, his eyes sharper. Quackity would explain that there were no blood smears and Tommy wouldn’t be able to pick Wilbur up on his own. 

And the death message announcing him to be gone would have been lost in the mess of the chat after the election. Anyone would have missed it. 

The only explanation was that Wilbur was dead and his body disappeared as his code deleted itself. 

Wilbur Soot was dead. 

  * ┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈•



Tommy was cold. 

He was so cold. 

The torch in his hand provided almost no relief. That is unless he brought his hand straight up to the flames, almost touching the coal. But then, it would burn and he would draw his hand away, already missing the heat. 

If Wilbur was here, Tommy might have even forsaken the ideas of being independent and manly and curled up against the elder. 

Wilbur was always warm.

Tommy was cold. 

  * ┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈•



Dream was off making more potions when Wilbur woke up. Eret was the only one in the room which, in hindsight, was probably a bad idea. 

Wilbur didn’t like Dream but he hated Eret.

He hated them after everything they’ve done.

Wilbur woke up slowly, the hazy feeling that healing potions gave still muffling his brain and keeping his thoughts slow; Eret didn’t even notice he was awake at first. It wasn’t until Wilbur spoke, his voice rough and his accent thick. 

“Am I in hell?”

Eret, thankfully, didn’t jump. They just closed the book in their hands and turned to fully face Wilbur, a smile they hoped was comforting on their face. 

“You’re not dead, Wilbur.”

Wilbur only snorted. 

“I found you in the forest, bleeding out from an arrow.”

“And you, what, saved me? Picked me up? Took me to your base and fed me potions? You?”

  
  
Eret simply stared at Wilbur. “You find that so unbelievable?”   
  


Wilbur’s head tilted so he could face the other. “Why would you care, Eret? You didn’t care when you betrayed us.”

  
  
“I care, Wil-”

“No, you don’t,” Wilbur pushed himself up, glared at Eret and for the first time, Eret looked into Wilbur’s eyes. Why did he look so much older? “You don’t care, Eret, so stop pretending you do.”

Eret saw Wilbur’s flinch when he moved too fast. “Just lie back down, Wilbur, okay? Don’t hurt yourself anymore.”

“Where’s Tommy?”

“I don’t know,” Eret admitted, realizing that Wilbur wasn’t gonna lie back down. “He wasn’t there when I found you.”

“That means he got away,” Wilbur mumbled to himself before looking up again. “Where are we?”

  
  
There was the question Eret didn’t want to answer. “Dream’s base.”

  
  
Wilbur’s face got pale. “Dream’s? You took me to Dream?”

  
  
“If they didn’t, you would have died.”

Dream was there in the doorway, his signature mask hiding all his features. He walked up to the foot of the bed and Wilbur slowly pushed himself away from the man.

“What is this?” Wilbur looked frantically between them. “What, are you here to kill me or something?”

  
  
“If we wanted you dead,” Dream said. “You wouldn’t have woken up.”

“So, why did you save me then?”

  
  
“I don’t hate you, Wilbur, and I don’t want you dead.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Guys!” Eret yelled slightly and they both quieted. “Wilbur, you don’t have to trust us or anything but we do want to help.”

“I don’t have anything to give you,” Wilbur said, defeated. “I don’t have diamonds or netherrite; I don’t even have my fucking country. I don’t have anything to give.”

  
  
Dream sighed before sitting down in the chair next to Wilbur’s bed. “We don’t want anything.”

  
  
Wilbur scoffed but it sounded forced. “Right. Everyone wants something. No one does anything out of the kindness of their heart or some shit.”

  
  
This is what war did to people. 

This is what betrayal did to people. 

No one is the same as before.

“Look,” Dream stood again. “Get some rest, Wilbur, I can see your eyes closing. We’ll take more tomorrow.”

Dream then walked out the door and Wilbur relaxed ever so slightly. Eret began to walk out, Wilbur’s eyes watching their every move, and they paused right in front of the door.    
  


“Sometimes, people do want to help with nothing in return, Wilbur.”

  
  
And just as Eret left, Wilbur responded.

“Not in my experience.”   
  


  * ┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈•



The paper was ripped, crumpled but it was all Tommy had. He was barely able to make it from the few pieces of sugar cane he found; the note would have to be short. 

He was barely able to get the ink sac from the squid. His stone sword was terrible and Tommy couldn’t exactly go back to his base at the moment to get his better stuff; there were still the others looking for him, trying to find him. 

Tommy found the feather quickly; it was simply left behind by a chicken but he ended up killing it anyways. Food was scarce and he hadn’t eaten since before the election yesterday. 

The furnace lit up the small hole in the mountain and provided some sort of warmth but Tommy was still cold. He blocked up the entrance again before curling back into the corner, using a wooden plank as a table. 

He began to write. 

_ Dear Technoblade… _


	3. the barrel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur attends his own funeral and a familiar face joins the server.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big thank you to @Diamantspitzhacke on ao3 for helping me figure out this chapter!! make sure to go check her out, her murder mystery is fantastic!! love you, noki <3
> 
> and i love all of you!! thank you for reading and enjoy! <33

_ Dear Technoblade, _

_ It’s Tommy, your brother. You already know that. _

  
  


The second time Wilbur woke up, Eret wasn’t there but Dream was. The younger man was sitting in the chair Eret was sitting in with a book in his lap, reading quietly in the evening.

“I don’t need a babysitter, you know,” Wilbur groaned softly as he pushed himself up again. Dream only rolled his eyes, placing his hand on Wilbur’s shoulder and gently pushing him down again.

  
  
“You clearly do if you keep trying to get up with an arrow wound,” Dream then stood, closing his book and setting it aside. “You of all people should know that potions still have a chance of not working.”

  
  


_ Look, Big Man, I’m just gonna cut to the chase. _

_ Wilbur is dead. He was shot a few days ago and there was no body found.  _

  
  
Dream then grabbed a bottle of water, handing it to Wilbur who took it gratefully and chugging all of it. Then, Dream sat down on the edge of the bed before reaching for the shirt Wilbur was wearing, pulling it up. 

“Hey,” Wilbur half-yelled, pushing Dream’s hands away. “At least take me to dinner first.”

  
  
“I already did,” Dream pointed out and Wilbur rolled his eyes. “I have to check on the wound, Wilbur.”

Wilbur huffed but lied back down, letting Dream pull his shirt up and unwrap the bandage. He still flinched when Dream touched his bare skin; Wilbur still didn’t trust him. 

Who would after everything they’ve been through?

  
_ We held an election for L’Manburg and we were able to bring back Schlatt to be our other endorsement. It was going well until he decided that he would start his own campaign called Schlatt 2020. _

_ We thought it wouldn’t matter; we thought we already won. _

  
Wilbur could barely look at Dream’s mask without seeing the man standing over them, Wilbur’s caravan on fire behind him. Wilbur could still hear the ringing after the explosion that destroyed everything. Wilbur couldn’t fall asleep without seeing Dream and Tommy’s duel, Tommy with an arrow in his chest. 

Maybe that’s why Wilbur jumped in front of his little brother when he saw the arrow flying in front of him. Maybe he did it because he already saw Tommy get hit with an arrow, already saw the teenager almost die. Maybe he just couldn’t bear to see it again. 

“You seem to be fine,” Dream said, breaking Wilbur out of his thoughts before Dream took away the bandage all together. Wilbur glanced down. 

There was only a faint scar on his stomach. 

  
  


_ POG 2020, our campaign, won with about 40 percent of the votes. _

_ But then, SWAG 2020 (Quackity and George) and Schlatt 2020 decided to put their votes together. And they won by a landslide.  _

  
  


“Do you think you can stand?” Dream asked and Wilbur nodded stiffly before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He was surprised when Dream slid up next to him, pulling Wilbur’s right arm over his shoulder. “Ready?”

  
  
“I think I can stand on my own.”

  
  
“I wouldn’t doubt it if you hadn’t been in bed almost all day after a wound.”

Reluctantly, Wilbur allowed Dream to pull him up and found himself leaning slightly onto the younger male. Together, the two made their way out of the guest room before going down a flight of stairs that led into a living room/kitchen. Eret was sitting there, dressed up nicely in their royal attire. Wilbur narrowed his eyes at them before glancing at Dream who was also dressed elegantly with a cloak and everything.

“Where are you guys going?” Wilbur asked before he could stop himself. Dream and Eret shared a look before Eret answered. 

“Your funeral.”

  
  


_ Schlatt’s first order as the president was revoking me and Wilbur’s citizenship.  _

_ He kicked us out of our own country. _

_ Our own people chased us out of the walls with crossbows and shite. We tried to run. _

_ Wilbur dived in front of me and took an arrow.  _

  
“I’m going.”

“What?” Dream glanced at him. “No, you aren’t.”

“They think I’m dead, Dream! I have to go and prove that I’m alive.”

  
  
“Wilbur, don’t you see what I see? We can use this to our advantage!”

Wilbur glanced between the two. “What do you mean?”

  
  
“Everything thinks you’re dead,” Eret stood from the couch, approaching the two. “Only we know you’re alive. That means that when we fight against Schlatt, you’re our secret weapon.”

  
  


_ I had to leave him. _

_ Techno, I swear, I tried to save him but I didn’t have any potions or food or even bandages and he told me to run so I did.  _

_ God, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.  _

_ It’s all my fault.  _

  
Wilbur quieted, smiling slightly. Eret stared at him.

“What?”

  
  
“You said you would fight against Schlatt.”

Dream snorted. “He’s no you, Wilbur. He wants weapons, power, to expand into my land. I might hate L’Manchildburg but at least you ruled with kindness and not might. Schlatt doesn’t follow those same principles.”

Wilbur then let out a laugh and he folded at the waist, forcing Dream to keep him upright. “I never thought I would be fighting with you two.”

“Believe me,” Dream rolled his eyes but a small smile forced its way out. “I never thought either.”

Eret just smiled at the two fondly.

  
  


_ I can’t leave the SMP right now, it’s too dangerous. I don’t have any supplies or food or even armour. I can’t get to the exit near the community house; they’re tracking me.  _

_ I have a ‘kill on sight’ on my head.  _

  
  
  


An hour later, Eret, Dream, and Wilbur, whose face was covered with a hood, stood aways away from where the funeral was taking place. Schlatt had blatantly refused to make a grave for Wilbur in Manburg, saying he wasn’t a citizen. So, Dream gave the okay for Niki and the others to make a grave for him in the forest near Manburg. 

The unusual trio watched from the edge of the river as Niki placed a few lilies of the valley before a gravestone in the rain. On it was etched “WILBUR SOOT: BELOVED REVOLUTIONIST AND PRESIDENT.”

And underneath that, in smaller letters, was  _ “There’s so much more to the world. You can go and explore it.” _

Only Niki, Fundy, Tubbo, and Jack were there. 

And only Niki had the courage to speak. 

  
  


_ Please, I need your help. I can’t do this without you.  _

_ I have no one; Wilbur is dead, Niki and Tubbo are trapped in L’Manburg and everyone else is against me. Please. _

  
  


“He-he was a good friend,” She spoke softly. “ I don’t think I ever met someone more dedicated than Wil.”

There was a beat of silence and she wiped tears away.

“He just wanted freedom and he was prepared to do anything for it; he would have thrown his own life away for it. Wilbur had only us and still, he made history.”

“Before the war, he would play guitar a lot and write songs. When the fighting started, it was less and less but sometimes, I would still hear him, humming as he did work. I think I’ll miss his singing and his words the most.”

Her voice hitched. “He was one of my best friends and I’m going to miss him. Goodbye, Wilbur.”

Niki collapsed in tears and Tubbo was immediately by her side, looking uncomfortable in the suit they wore. Tubbo also had tears running down their face but it was hard to tell the rain and the two of them made their way back to Manburg. 

Jack stood there for a beat longer before following Niki and Tubbo. Only Fundy remained. 

“I’m sorry, dad,” Was all he said before he too left, not even sparing a glance at Dream or Eret. 

  
  


_ I can’t ask Phil; he already has a lot on his plate and he still doesn’t know that Wilbur is dead. _

_ You’re all I have, Techno. Please. _

  
  


The trio stood there for a bit longer.

Wilbur just stared at his own grave. 

Oh, how strange to see your friends mourn you when you stand not even a hundred feet away. 

“Are you ready?” Eret whispered, gently grabbing Wilbur’s arm and unknowingly shaking him out of his thoughts. Wilbur startled a bit, glancing at Eret before back at his grave.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wilbur tried to smile. “It was quite boring anyway; no fireworks or anything.”

They stayed there for a few more seconds in the rain.

  
  


_ Your brother, _

_ Tommy _

  
  


Tommy watched Dream, Eret and the unknown person leave from the safety of a tree. Once they were out of sight, Tommy jumped down from the tree before making his way over to the grave. 

He didn’t know why Eret or Dream were there; if anything, they were some of the factors that led to Wilbur dying. 

His L’Manburg uniform was ripped and dirty and as he stood before the gravestone, the rain drenched him. 

Tommy didn’t say anything; he only leaned down and placed one of his discs next to the lily.

“I swear, Wilbur,” He whispered in the rain. “I’ll get L’Manburg back, whatever it takes.”   
  
  


_ Technoblade has joined the game.  _


	4. the safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream gives some stuff to Techno, Wilbur plays the guitar and the festival is a week away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapterrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
> 
> hello my lovelies, welcome back! 
> 
> please check out the notes at the end, they have some stuff pertaining the rest of this story!!
> 
> love you all <3

_ Dream whispers to you: I have something for you _

  
  


The last time Dream saw Technoblade, they had just won Minecraft Championship 8. Dream had a crown slipping down his face and when he pushed it up again, he saw Techno smiling softly at him. Dream only laughed, bounding forward to wrap the other in a hug and even though Techno stiffened at first, he eventually melted into it. 

“We did it,” Dream shouted, his voice getting drowned out by the crowd but he didn’t care. 

They were at the top of the world.

When Dream found Techno again in the crowd, he was by Phil, Tommy, and Wilbur and even though he was happy with Dream and the team, he was even happier by the people he considered his family.

Dream had never seen him smile that much. 

“What is it?”

  
  
Glancing back, Dream saw Technoblade for the first time in a long time. 

And he looked terrible.

Techno’s crown was replaced by a netherrite helmet, his eyes were sunken in and it looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. He gripped a sword tightly and his posture was defensive, as if he was ready to attack at any time. Netherrite armour covered Techno’s body from head to toe and it glowed dangerously among the snow.

“Hello, Techno,” Dream tried to smile but it fell short. Techno just leveled a glare at him. “Did Tommy get my message?”

  
  
“I saw it,” Techno deadpanned, his voice somehow sounding more dead than usual. “Tommy was out but he’ll find it soon.”

“Good,” Dream nodded awkwardly. “I have some items for you as well.”

  
  
Techno narrowed his eyes and took a dangerous step forward. “What game are you playing at, Dream?”

“What are you talking about?”

  
  
“Why would you help us? If anything, you should be glad Wil- my brother is dead!”

Techno stalked forward with every word and his voice grew steadily louder with every syllable. 

Techno never yelled. 

“My brother is dead,” Techno growled. “You better not be playing games.”

“No games,” Dream promised. “Wilbur was a good...enemy but I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.”

  
  
Wilbur is breathing, Techno. 

Wilbur is waiting, Techno. 

Wilbur is still here, Techno. 

Dream clenched his jaw and grabbed the bag off his shoulder, holding it out in front of him. Techno only glanced at it, his anger still evident.

  
  
“Just some supplies,” Dream said. “Food, golden apples, anything you might have forgotten. You don’t have to take it but it’s here.”

There was a second of silence before Techno reached forward, snatching the bag without ever lowering his sword. 

“This is all I can do. I still have a peace treaty with Manburg and cannot overthrow a democratically elected leader. But I’ll help in the shadows.”

  
  
Dream then pulled out an ender pearl and he threw it but before it hit the ground, he glanced back at Techno. 

Wilbur is alive, Techno. 

“I’m truly sorry about your brother,” Dream whispered before the ender pearl hit the ground across the cove. He stumbled but straightened again, looking back up the mountain. 

Techno still stood there, the bag now over his shoulder and his sword still in his hand. However, in the hand that used to hold to the bag now had something else.

It was hard to see but Dream swore that it was a red beanie.

  * ┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈•



It’s been about a week and a half since the exchange of power in Manburg and since Wilbur was officially declared dead. Techno was found in the Nether day in and day out, farming for netherrite and when he wasn’t doing that, he was in Pogtopia with Tommy.

Manburg was steadily changing under the new president. The walls were already gone, taken down after the election, and the flag has been changed from the infamous design. Quackity, Tubbo, and Fundy have found themselves as Schlatt’s advisors, helping him build the country up. Niki found herself trapped under his rule, seeking refuge in her bakery but still fighting. 

Meanwhile, Eret, Dream, and Wilbur had stayed out of the limelight as much as possible. They typically stayed around Dream’s secret base and while Dream and Eret have been out, Wilbur was officially on house arrest.

And if it didn’t mean life or death for him, it would have been entertaining.

But with Schlatt still in power and everything thinking he’s dead, it wasn’t so funny. 

Dream opened the door quietly to the base, his inventory feeling lighter than it ever has before. His crossbow was now in Tommy’s hands along with many other things and the extra netherrite Dream had now belonged to Techno. 

However, when he entered the base, he could hear the light strums of a guitar.

Leaning his sword by the door, Dream quietly padded his way across the floor, following the sound of the guitar. It led him up the stairs and down the hall; there, he found Eret leaning against the door frame of Wilbur’s room.

Eret noticed him; they smiled and silently gestured Dream over. Curious, Dream did as the other asked and peeked into the room. 

Facing away from them, Wilbur sat on a chair with a guitar in his lap, playing an almost random tune. The melody was slow, almost nostalgic before it bled into a familiar song.

“I heard there was a special place where men can go and emancipate,” Wilbur sang softly to no one. “The tyranny and the blood lust of their rulers.”

Dream found himself smiling.

“Well, this place is real, you needn’t fret with Tommy, Tubbo,” Wilbur paused. “And Eret. A pretty big and not blown up L’Manburg.”

Eret covered their mouth with their hand.

“My L’Manburg, my L’Manburg, my L’Manburg,” The guitar stopped. “My L’Manburg.”

The guitar started back up again but with a faster and louder rhythm this time. 

The song of a country long lost changed into a song of a revolution bloody and war drawn. 

“He used to play for us,” Eret whispered under their breath. “Before the war, he would play songs others would make up on the spot. But, when the war started, it became less and less.”

“I can hear you guys,” Wilbur said, still playing. “How about you sit down instead of creeping on me?”   
  


Eret let out a laugh, low and rich before bounding in and sitting down on the bed. Dream followed more hesitantly but sat down next to the Eret. Wilbur then turned his chair around, the music pausing for just a second before starting back up again. 

“Any requests?” Wilbur glanced up. 

“You know which one,” Eret grinned and Wilbur gave him a mock glare. “Please?”

  
  
“Fine,” Wilbur grumbled but a smile threatened to slip through. He played a few chords as if he was testing it out. Eret cheered slightly and Dream’s smile got wider. 

Hours passed and the three sat in that room, the old guitar abandoned after a bit. 

The three just talked. They talked and they laughed and for just a few hours, there was no war, no revolution, no right, no wrong.

It was just them. 

A traitor, an exile, and an enemy.

Maybe they could be friends. 

  * ┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈•



Tommy sat quietly by the fire in Pogtopia, meticulously wrapped the netherrite sword’s handle in cloth for a better grip. The fire was low, barely licking the coals Techno put there a few hours ago.

It was the middle of autumn, after all. The ravine was cold.

“Hey, Tommy.”

The one in question barely glanced up at his friend. Tubbo stood there behind him, still clad in a suit.

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, Tubbo,” Tommy murmured. “Dream gave me a bunch of shit.”

  
“Why would he do that?”

  
  
“I dunno.”

Tubbo came up next to him, sitting down next to their best friend. “What are you doing?”

  
  
“Techno told me to; says it’s easier to wield a sword with grip.”

“Oh. And where’s Techno?”

  
  
“I dunno. He left a bit ago.”

  
  
The two fell silent again and an unknown tension laid thick.

“Tommy…”

“Don’t,” Tommy growled. “Don’t give me the same shit everyone else has. I don’t need you ‘I’m so sorry’ and ‘Wilbur would be proud of you’. I don’t want to hear it.”

“But you can’t just sit here-” Tubbo began but Tommy whipped his head towards them, an almost fire in his eyes. 

“I’m not just going to sit here. Fucking Schlatt is going down.”

Tommy breathed heavily and he tried to calm himself again. “Why did you come here, Tubbo.”

“Tommy…”

“Just tell me and then leave me alone.”

Tubbo flinched back as if they were struck. But they still answered. 

“Schlatt is holding a festival on the 16th. It’s a festival to celebrate democracy.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

  
  
“Schlatt said that everyone on the server was invited. Well, everyone except you and him, if he was still alive.”

Tommy simply hummed, leaning back towards the fire and continuing his task. 

He was calm.

Like a calm before the storm.

  
“So,” Tubbo spoke up again. “What are you going to do?”

  
  
Tommy only smiled. “Oh, I’ll be there. I can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this fic was initially supposed to end a the festival but now that the finale of l'manburg happened, i might continue this until then
> 
> please let me know if i should! <3


	5. the trigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day of festival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone!!!
> 
> after seeing some of the comments, i decided this story will continue until the finale war!!
> 
> (i have a really good ending :) )
> 
> but i hope you enjoy the red festival! i love all of you <3

Somewhere on the server, a festival is destined to begin. 

Somewhere on the server, a president looks over a country he didn’t build. 

Somewhere on the server, a young woman prepares for the unknown.

Somewhere on the server, an orphan starts to see what went wrong.

  
  


Somewhere on the server, a teenager stands beside a president.

Somewhere on the server, a brother loads a crossbow with fireworks

Somewhere on the server, a ghost and two friends watch what unfolds.

Somewhere on the server, a brother stacks TNT under the country he built. 

  * ┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈┈•



It was supposed to be a joyous occasion. It was supposed to be a festival celebrating the core foundations of the country. It was supposed to be...happy. 

It’s funny how it all went wrong so fast.

Tubbo in a box.

What will he do?

  
  
“Schlatt?” Tubbo gripped the fence tightly, their face screwed up in confusion. “Schlatt, I can’t get out.”

“Tubbo, I’ll cut to the chase, alright?” Schlatt’s words were as cold as ice. “It really sucks that I have to say this in front of all these people.”

“Schlatt, I can’t get out,” Tubbo repeated again but the one in question paid them no attention.

“Tubbo, I know what you’ve been up to.”

  
  


_ “Tubbo, you need to stay in Manburg.” _

_ “Tommy-what? But I can help.” _

_ “Stay in Manburg; you can be a spy.” _

_ “A-a spy?” _

_ “Schlatt seems to trust you. He didn’t kick you out of the country or-or kill you.” _

_ “Wil-” _

_ “You can be the spy on the inside.” _

_ “What are you going to do?” _

_   
_ _   
_ _ “I’m going to ask for some help.” _

  
  


“What have I done?” Tubbo asked.

“What have I done, he asks,” Schlatt’s voice was low, mocking. “You’ve been conspiring!”

  
  
His voice suddenly seemed ten times louder than before. 

“With the tyrants-” Schlatt caught himself. “With the tyrant, sorry, singular, that we kicked out of this country, that we killed! I don’t know if you know this but treason-”

Everything fell into place.

“-isn’t exactly a respectable thing around here. I know what you’ve been doing, it all adds up.”

Schlatt leaned forward. “Do you know what happens to traitors, Tubbo?”

“No?”

  
  
“Nothing good.”

  
  


_ “Eret, I mean this in the nicest way possible; you fucked up.” _

  
  


“Get up here, Technoblade.”

Tommy watched from the roof, his face almost impassive as he watched his brother, his only brother, stand from his seat and walked up to the podium. 

Tubbo was still trapped, their eyes glancing up towards where they knew Tommy was hidden. Their eyes seemed to beg for an answer to the question they held.

Is he going to hurt me?

And to be honest, Tommy didn’t know.

Wilbur would know. 

What would Wilbur do?

  
  
  
_ “I wanna blow that motherfucker to smithereens.” _

  
  


Wilbur watched the festival from the distance, his hands pushed deep inside the coat Eret gave him. It was a dark brown, one Eret stitched together by the fire as Wilbur tried not to fall asleep and Dream read well into the night. The wind brushed his hair to the side; it was cold without his beanie but that was long gone. 

Eret and Dream stood next to him, pillars that helped him stand straight.

Honestly, Wilbur never expected for them to become friends.

Dream was an enemy, Eret was a traitor and Wilbur was against them both. 

They were never supposed to be friends; they were supposed to fight and insult and scream at each other until one of them was victorious. 

But then...but then, they saved him. 

Wilbur still didn’t know why. 

  
  


_ “Sometimes, people do want to help with nothing in return.” _

  
  


“What is he doing?” Wilbur whispered, staring at his brother; the last time he saw Techno was a month or maybe two ago. Tommy and he visited Hypixel right before the election and together with Techno, they sat in his potato farm for what must have been hours, just talking. 

Wilbur and Tommy were still dressed in their L’Manburg uniform. 

Technoblade was still smiling.

Tommy was still loud.

Wilbur was still alive. 

They stayed there all day, telling inside jokes and having fake duels that usually ended with no one winning. They sat by a tree in the middle of the farm, the sun slowly setting on the skyblock island and the cold finally settling in but they were the warmest they’ve ever been. 

The three brothers fell asleep there, Techno’s cape wrapped over their shoulders and his arms around the two younger, protecting them. 

Techno always protected them.

Wilbur woke up first that morning, his head on Techno’s chest and Techno’s head rested on Wilbur’s hair. He looked up and Techno seemed...peaceful. Tommy was lying across the two of them with his head buried in Wilbur’s lap and his arms around Techno’s waist. 

For a second, Wilbur simply sat there, a soft smile on his face before he fell asleep again.

The next time he woke, he was alone, curled up by the tree. Techno’s cape was wrapped around him and Tommy’s jacket was covering his lap. When his eyes focused again, he found Techno and Tommy dueling in the farm with wooden swords. 

Tommy was laughing and Techno was grinning.

Wilbur and Tommy left Hypixel with high hopes. 

Unknowing of what comes next.

  
  


_ “My first decree, as the President of L'manburg, the emperor, of this great country! Is to revoke!! The citizenships of Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit! Get ‘em out of here!" _

_ “You gotta go, Tommy. You have to go.” _

_   
_ _   
_ _ “I’m not leaving you, Wilbur. I’m not just going to leave you.” _

_   
_ _   
_ _ “Get it back for me.” _

_   
_ _   
_ _ “You’re not going to die.” _

_   
_ _   
_ _ “Promise me, Tommy.” _

_   
_ _   
_ _ “I promise.” _

  
  


“What is he doing?” Wilbur repeated himself when Techno pulled out his crossbow. He took a step forward but Dream’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. “What is he doing!”

Techno raised his crossbow. 

It seemed like the whole world was silent. 

And Techno pulled the trigger. 

The resounding bang muffled any screams that echoed from the crowd. 

Wilbur’s right hand covered his mouth as he saw the fireworks explode in the box Tubbo was trapped in before flying towards the sky, lighting it up with blues and reds that rivaled the stars. Dream’s hand on his shoulder tightened almost painfully. Eret’s hand slipped into Wilbur’s, trying to provide some comfort. 

And together, the three watched the fireworks of the festival. 

It would have been beautiful.

  
  


_ “I’m sorry, kid.” _

  
  


“Tubbo!” Tommy screamed, uncaring of giving his hiding place away. He stood on the roof, his armor glowing and his sword in his hand. “Schlatt, you bastard!”

  
  
“Tommy,” Schlatt glanced away from the unconscious and bleeding Tubbo, his hand resting on Techno’s shoulder. “You weren’t invited.”

  
  
“You fucking killed him!” Tommy yelled, his voice quivering. “You killed Tubbo.”

“They were a liability,” Schlatt shrugged, waving his hand lazily at Tubbo.

In short, they looked terrible. They had a wound on their chest where the firework initially hit that was bleeding sluggishly. Ash and gunpowder coated their face and suit and their head lolled to the side, eyes closed. 

Tommy growled and an ender pearl appeared in his hands. Throwing it down, he suddenly appeared in the aisle that led up to the podium. Immediately, the audience raised their bows and swords.

The kill on sight order was still active after all.

“How could you?” Tommy hissed, staring up at Schlatt but he was talking to Techno. “Tubbo trusted you.”

“I’m very susceptible to peer pressure,” Techno murmured, his grip tight on the crossbow. 

“Listen, Tommy,” Schlatt spread his arms wide. “The new era of Manburg is among us! A bigger and better is coming and unfortunately, this Manburg doesn’t have a place for traitors and spies.”

“Well, it seems to have a place for dictators and murderers,” Tommy sneered. “You don’t deserve L’Manburg.”

Someone stepped up next to him. Glancing to his right, he found Niki smiling at him.

He wondered if she knew about the TNT lying under their feet.

“You killed Tubbo,” Niki said, her soft voice somehow loud in the silence. “You killed your men. How can you lead us?”

  
  
Schlatt started to laugh. “How can I lead you? Look around! The country hasn’t been this happy, this joyful, this prospering since ever. You think Wilbur could have done this?”   
  
  


_ “Independance, or death.” _

  
  


“Wilbur was a coward, he was weak!”

  
  
  
_ “If we get no revolution, then we want nothing.” _ _   
_ _   
  
_

“He couldn’t even survive an arrow wound!”   
  
  


_ “We would rather die than give into you join your SMP.” _

  
  


“Wilbur Soot is dead!”

  
  


_ “Goodbye, Wilbur.” _

  
  
Someone walked up the aisle.

Voices started to raise. 

People started to point. 

Lies began to unfold. 

The truth finally came to light.

  
  


_ “Whatever it takes.” _

  
  


Tommy and Niki stepped to the side and in between them stood Wilbur Soot. 

The first president of L’Manburg.

The leader of the revolution.

And the formally considered dead player. 

  
  
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Schlatt gritted his teeth. “You’re supposed to be dead, lover boy.”

“Oh, Schlatt,” Wilbur smiled. “The story doesn’t end here.”


	6. the blank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Wilbur's stunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, it's been awhile, hasn't it?
> 
> i am terribly sorry about the lack of updates, i just lost a bit of motivation for this story. however, i promise ya'll this story will have an ending!!
> 
> it is drawing to a close and should end in a few chapters!
> 
> enjoy!

Once upon a time, there were three brothers, each as different as they come.

Each of them were adopted by the same man, the same father who promised to protect them as long as they lived.

The three brothers grew up together and while they each had different goals, different standards, different ways of living, they were still that; brothers. 

As time went on, each brother left the home, waved their father goodbye, and went their own way.

One would strive to be better, faster, stronger. He would win a war.

One would strive to make his own future, make his own fate. He would build a home in the sky.

One would strive to never be alone. He would lose two discs.

However, they were still that; brothers.

And when one called, the others answered.

The second joined the third but would unfortunately perish under misjudgment.

Enraged, the first would join the third for revenge and for blood to spill.

But the second was still alive, protected by those that were enemies.

Now, there is no way of knowing the ending, of knowing what will happen next and what destiny calls you. There is no way of knowing when the story was over, when your time was up, when death finally called. 

And that’s what the second was truly afraid of. 

  * ┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈┈•



“The story isn’t over,” Schlatt laughed and laughed and laughed.

No one laughed with him. 

“You were always poetic,” Schlatt spat out, staring down at Wilbur. “Even when we were trapped in that fucking server where your so called “Sky Gods” raised the water, you simply smiled and talked of fate.”

Wilbur didn’t say anything; he only took a step forward, staring up defiantly at Schlatt. 

“You like to believe that everything happens for a reason,” Schlatt was ranting now, his plans slowly falling apart at the seams. “That’s what makes us different, Wilbur; that’s what makes me a better president! You would watch the world burn if that meant it was poetic and made sense to that story you make in your head but there is no story, Wilbur!”

Without a single word, a sword suddenly fell into Wilbur’s hand; there was a flash of a memory previously lost where Wilbur stared up at Schlatt who was safe in a house from the rising water. 

But it wasn’t a stone sword this time; it was a netherrite one.

“You’re outnumbered, lover boy,” Schlatt grinned a feral smile before turning to Techno who was silent throughout the entire encounter. “Techno, take care of Wilbur Soot as well; this time, permanently.”

But Techno didn’t raise his crossbow. 

“Are you deaf or something? I said kill him!”

  
  
So, Techno did raise his now loaded crossbow but he aimed it straight at Schlatt. Schlatt huffed. 

“Even with you here, Techno, you are still outnumbered.”

And though it seemed like everything was against them, Wilbur smiled.

“For all the time we spent together, Schlatt, you always forgot one thing.”

Schlatt raised his head defiantly. “And what’s that, lover boy?”

“Fate has nothing to do with this.”   


Techno released the trigger.

Reds and blues littered the podium.

And all hell broke loose. 

But you see, hell doesn’t mean anything in a world where gods don’t exist. 

You cannot fear what isn’t there.

Oh, you can fear the swing of a sword or a smash of a potion bottle. 

You can even fear people.

But you cannot fear the threat of an afterlife that means nothing to you.

And when you come so close to dying, you start to lose your meaning of death.

With a rage fueled by a hundred setting suns, Wilbur danced with a sword in his hand and his brothers by his side. Dream had taken to teaching Wilbur everything he knew so that one day, when the time came, Schlatt wouldn’t know what hit him. The three brothers all had their backs facing each other and when one of them was vulnerable, the other two would cover.

A beautiful dance of chaos.

“Get them!” Schlatt yelled, ignoring the blood and ash stuck to his skin; Techno fired the firework at his feet simply for a distraction. Killing Schlatt wouldn’t change anything. “Don’t kill them!”

However, as time drew on, as Tubbo bled out, as Schlatt healed, the dance started to slow. 

They had no chance of winning. 

Techno fired firework after firework. 

Tommy ran off towards the podium. 

And Wilbur with blood staining his face and his teeth tinted red from a cut on his lip, smiled up at Eret and Dream. 

And they smiled down on him. 

  * ┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈┈•



_ “Keep your feet further apart,” Dream instructed gently. “Shoulder-width. It helps with your balance and make sure to stay on your toes.” _

_ “So he can be even taller?” Eret snorted from where they sat against a tree. “He’s already taller than both of us.” _

_ “Sounds like you’re jealous,” Wilbur chided, laughing when Eret stuck their tongue out at him. _

_ “Pay attention, Wil,” Dream scolded but his smile gave it away. “You’re going to get yourself killed out there.” _

_ “You do care,” Wilbur winked at the other but it was quickly followed by a yelp when Dream smacked him in the leg with the wooden sword. “Hey!” _

_ “Pay attention.” _

_ “Fine, sheesh.” _

_ For a second, Wilbur could see his brothers in the two.  _

_ For a second, Wilbur forgot that his brothers thought he was dead. _

  * ┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈┈•



They retired in Pogtopia, a ravine with bridges hanging across it that Tommy apparently named after their campaign. It was...sweet, homely but Wilbur must admit, terribly decorated. Tommy’s idea of decoration was scattering random blocks like diamond blocks around and Techno never truly cared, as long as it got the job done. 

Techno was starting the fire up, the draft of the ravine starting to pick up as the air grew ever colder. Niki was sitting close by, rummaging through the chests lying around to try and make something to eat. Tubbo was in Tommy’s room, patched up the best Techno and Wilbur could do, and Tommy was with them, watching over them. 

Wilbur was helping Niki, digging through the chests for more mushrooms.

Every so often, Niki would glance behind her at him, as if checking he was still there.

That he wouldn’t disappear as soon as her back was turned. 

Techno tossed a few more logs in the fire and like he always used to do when they were kids after a round of sparring, started to clean his various weapons. But like Niki, he glanced up periodically at Wilbur. 

A door opened and shut quietly. Tommy appeared, looking worse for wear. 

And there was something familiar in his hand. 

A red beanie. 

And Wilbur couldn’t help but smile.

“You know dad would yell at you for taking my things,” Wilbur spoke softly, abandoning his initial mission in favor of his little brother. “He would have made you check the farms for a week.”

“Just take it, asshole,” Tommy pushed his hand out with the beanie. 

But Wilbur ignored it in favor of pulling Tommy into a hug. 

It took all of two seconds before Tommy broke down.

“I thought you were dead,” He gripped Wilbur’s trench coat tightly, pushing his face into the taller’s shoulder. “And- and I left you and you were bleeding and I thought you were dead. Oh god, I left you and you were still fucking alive!”

“You didn’t know, Toms,” Wilbur ran his fingers through the blonde hair that matched their father’s so perfectly. “And I wanted you to go.”

“But you were- you were alive and I left you to die-.”

“Tommy,” Wilbur pulled back and set his hands on the other’s shoulders, staring into Tommy’s watery eyes. “This was not your fault. I told you to run because then, you would have been dead as well.”

Tommy hiccupped but doesn’t say anything else. He still gripped Wilbur’s beanie tightly. 

Wilbur smiled softly at him before pulling the beanie gently from his grasp, pulling it over his hair. The beanie is dirty and ripped and falling apart but it was his beanie. He adjusted it before glancing back down at Tommy, making a funny face.

“How do I look?”

  
  
“Like shite,” Tommy blurted out and even though he’s crying, he’s laughing and laughing and laughing. Wilbur rolled his eyes and pulled the younger into a playful headlock, rubbing his knuckles against the teen’s head. “Let go, Wilby!”

  
  
“Aww, Wilby,” Wilbur cooed, not letting up. “That’s adorable, Tommy.”

“Oh my god, you are such a bitch.”

Wilbur laughed. “Yep, same Tommy I remember.”

Then, he glanced up and Niki was smiling at him fondly, a bundle of wheat laid forgotten in her arms. He looked a bit to the left and Techno sitting there, an unknown look in his eyes. 

“What are you waiting for?” Wilbur asked, finally letting Tommy out of the headlock but keeping his arm around his shoulders. “We can all bully the child at once.”

“Hey!”

  
  
Niki ran up to the two, gathering two of her boys in a hug. 

After some coaxing, Techno soon joined. 

Tubbo slept through it all, slowly healing.

And a man with a mask and a person with a crown watched from above.


	7. the forward sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur finally tells his story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooo here we go again!!!
> 
> also, folks, we are reaching the final stretch!!! i'm pretty sure only a few chapters will be left!!!!
> 
> but for now, enjoy <3

“How did you survive?”

Wilbur knew that the question was coming. He knew by the way Techno looked at him, by the way Niki smiled tightly at him, by the way Tommy barely left his side throughout the night. But even though he knew that he would have to answer, have to explain, he found himself pausing, stuttering, trying to stall the inevitable.

Maybe that was always his personal flaw.

“It’s a long story,” Wilbur wrapped his coat tighter around him, trying to remember the warmth he felt that night by the fire with a traitor and an enemy. “A very long story.”

It was past midnight now and dinner was long ago but yet, all of them are still awake. They sat on the floor, leaning against chests and walls by the fire. 

“We have time,” Niki pointed out. 

“You’re not going to like it,” Wilbur tried weakly. 

“Anything’s better than you dying,” Tommy whispered from his place at Wilbur’s right hand side and Wilbur felt his breath hitch ever so slightly; of course Tommy still remembers that one day that seemed so long ago, the day that Wilbur almost died. 

Sometimes, Wilbur woke up screaming, nightmares curling around the edge of his eyesight. Sometimes, he saw himself catch Tommy’s arms too late, saw the arrow hit Tommy instead of him. Sometimes, he felt like he couldn’t breathe because he wasn’t dying, no Tommy was dying and Tommy couldn’t die, he was just a kid, just a kid that Wilbur dragged into a war he was never meant to fight. 

Those were the days Eret and Dream would come running in, prepared to fight. Those were the days Wilbur’s words never came out just right and the blankets felt more like chains than anything. Those were the days Dream and Eret would sit down next to him, murmuring words that Wilbur couldn’t understand because the waves in his head were too loud, too high, too much. 

Those were the days Wilbur wanted nothing more than to find Tommy and make sure that he still had him. 

“You’re stuck with me, Toms,” Wilbur tried to joke, ruffling the blonde hair softly. Tommy didn’t even try to push his hand off; he simply leaned more against him. “Where do you want me to start?”

  
  
“Who helped you?” Techno’s voice was somehow loud though it was only a whisper and when Wilbur looked into his brother’s eyes, he saw that fire, that flame that was in Tommy’s eyes, in his own. Oh, the three brothers looked nothing alike but it was always their eyes; when the time is right, you can look into any of their eyes and see the same fire, same dedication, same stubbornness that simultaneously aided and destroyed them. “Tommy told me where the arrow hit, you would have never survived.”

  
  
“I wasn’t supposed to,” Wilbur admitted, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He can’t look at them because if he did, he knew that the words would come tumbling out and he wouldn’t be able to stop it, to fight it. So, he only stared into the fire and tried to ignore the way the air in the ravine seemed to suffocate him. “By all means, I am supposed to be dead. The arrow hit a major artery.”

Wilbur leaned back just enough to lift his shirt; well, it was actually Dream’s because his own was covered in his own blood. Wilbur heard Niki’s gasp, heard Tommy’s mumbled swear, and felt Techno’s eyes widen. “It’s pretty faded by now.”

  
  
Scars were always rare. How could anything leave a mark when you had magic trapped in a bottle? The only other scar Wilbur had was from the final control room, from Punz’s sword, from the betrayal that seemingly changed everything. 

Scars were the marks of death that came too close. 

“But the person who found me had potions, loads of them,” Wilbur dropped his shirt and leaned forward again. “They were able to nurse me back to health.”

“You’re avoiding the question, Wil,” Surprisingly, Niki said. Somehow, she caught Wilbur’s gaze and didn’t let it go. “Who was it?”

  
  
Wilbur opened his mouth and closed it, tearing his eyes away from Niki’s own. But before he could even try to answer the question that’s been pulling the others for so long, there was a sound, high above them in the ravine; it sounded like footsteps.

Immediately, Techno, Niki, and Tommy jumped up, hands flying to weapons that were seemingly always strapped to their sides. Wilbur, who was so used to a calmer life with Dream and Eret, stood a second later. But the other three moved in front of Wilbur, acting almost like a shield. 

A bridge above them creaked and groaned and the lanterns that hung from the ceilings gave off barely any light, giving the four barely anything to work with. However, all of them recognized the glowing armour, the familiar netherrite. 

Tommy saw them first. 

“Get out,” He gritted his teeth, the familiar fire ever present in his eyes. Raising his sword, for he always attacked first and asked questions later, Tommy raised his chin and narrowed his eyes at Dream and Eret as they stepped off the stairs. “Get the hell out!”

“Tommy-” Dream tried but Tommy’s grip only tightened and the sword only rose. 

“You’re not welcomed here,” Niki stepped forward. 

“I advise you to leave,” Techno said. 

“Guys.”

The three hesitated and they glanced back at Wilbur. 

“Put away your swords. They’re the ones.”

  
  
No one had to ask the question again. 

When it looked like no one was moving, Wilbur pushed his way through the makeshift shield they made and approached the two enemies turned friends. He only offered them a small smile before the two rushed forward, pulling him into a hug. 

“That was stupid, Wil,” Eret chided softly. “Why did you charge in like that?”

“I blame it on Dream,” Came Wilbur’s muffled reply. 

“Wait, what?” Dream wheezed but any accusation in his voice was diminished by the smile on his face. “How is this my fault? You were the one that charged in and stole my freaking sword.”

“Details, details,” Wilbur pulled back but kept them in arms length. “But really, I’m fine.”

Time seemed to pass differently during those months that Wilbur stayed with Dream and Eret. At the beginning of it all, words were few and shared not too often. The only time that they seemingly had conversations is when they were arguing, when they were mad, when they were trying to figure out where this all left them. 

But time changes people; it changed them because soon, words turned into sentences but didn’t turn into arguments. Days spent in their own rooms turned into days spent exploring the woods, training, and somehow coexisting despite everything. 

If you asked them, they wouldn’t be able to tell you when they became friends. They could guess, no doubt about it, but they never knew when the words enemies, traitors, liars, opposers turned into allies, companions, associates, friends. 

Friends. 

“Them?” Tommy’s voice was a mix of betrayal and somehow, heartbreak. “What, are you buddy-buddy with the traitor and the man who wanted L’Manburg gone since the beginning of everything?” 

“It’s more complicated than that-” Wilbur turned back to face him, to finally face the music. For the symphony was picking up speed and music was getting louder with no chance of pausing, no chance of stopping.

“They’ve tried to kill us!” Tommy was screaming now, his voice echoing in the ravine. “Eret fucking betrayed us! How could you trust them?”

“Toms-”

  
  
“All they’ve ever done is screw us over, Wil! Ever since you came here, Dream’s been against you, against me. And Eret, just fuck Eret. You were the one who wrote that.” 

“Tommy,” Wilbur finally seemed to break through to his brother. He slowly approached him, setting his hands on the younger’s shoulders. “If they weren’t there that night, I wouldn’t be standing in front of you right now. If they didn’t help me, I would have been dead. I know that everything we’ve been through together that you hold nothing but disdain for these two but please, trust me. You don’t have to like them, you just have to tolerate them.”   
  


“I fucking hate them, I hope you know that.”

Wilbur only chuckled. “I did too. They’ve done some shitty things, Tommy, but let’s be honest, so have you and I. L’Manburg was started as a drug empire.”

“It was funny,” Tommy mumbled. 

Wilbur simply smiled. “Just trust me, Toms.”

“I trust you, Wilby.”

  * ┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈┈•



The button mocked him. 

It’s always there, in his dreams, his nightmares, when he closed his eyes for even a second; it was always there. 

Except for when it wasn’t. 

But it was simply a small tag in the inevitable for he fixed the redstone, fixed the button again. And he sat in that chair, staring at the button. 

It mocked him. 

And everything was L’Manburg’s fault. 


	8. the near sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War is soon and all Tommy can think about is the TNT under the podium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> the end is soon. 
> 
> let the finale begin.

Tommy.

_ You’re a psychopath. _

Wilbur, Tommy. 

_ Revolution is forever. _

Wilbur, Tommy, Fundy, Niki, Eret, Tubbo.

_ It was never meant to be _ .

Wilbur, Tommy, Fundy, Niki, Tubbo.

_ My first decree as president… _

Wilbur, Tommy. 

_ Go. _

Tommy. 

In the end, it was always him, alone, forgotten, exiled. Maybe it was always meant to be like this, Tommy thrown aside like he was nothing. Maybe he was just a nuisance, something for others to get rid of. Maybe he was forgettable, a simple loud-mouth bother that somehow began to mean something. 

There was no warmth when you were alone.

There was no warmth when you left the only home you knew.

There was no warmth when the one that gave you warmth was gone.

The ravine was always unforgiving for no matter how many lanterns hung, how many fires roared, how many people were in it, the ravine was always cold. Tommy had abandoned his L’Manburg uniform long ago; it brought no comfort being the colors of the country that killed its own leader. His old red shirt was comforting, nostalgic, bringing back a time way before the misgivings of war, the ruthlessness of betrayal, and the unforgiveness of death.

Sometimes, Tommy wished that it was him that died instead of Wilbur. And sometimes, he knew that he died when Wilbur did. 

He was the one that begged Dream to let Wilbur onto the server. He was the one who greeted his brother when he spawned for the first time. He was the one that showed him around, the prime path half made. He was the one that said yes to Wilbur’s insane plan of a drug empire.

Tommy wondered if he was insane. 

He wondered if the thought of destruction, of chaos, brought a smile to everyone else’s faces. He wondered if others spent hours awake at night, simply pacing and imagining the finale of everything. He wondered if the people of the server would watch it all burn slowly and believe that this was meant to be.

In a different world, Wilbur knew he was going insane. In this one, Tommy didn’t know.

He was the hero and everyone knows that the hero eventually falls. 

Whether it be to monsters or to their own madness, that is never told. 

Wilbur’s return, if anything, simply made it all worse because suddenly, Tommy was reminded of the promise that he made to him oh so long ago. That promise that he would take back L’Manburg, that he would one day stand as president like Wilbur did once. 

Tommy promised to get L’Manburg back for Wilbur. He only wanted to make his older brother proud, after all. It was always just them against everyone else and in the end, it will just be them and the ruins of their country, their revolution, their beginning. 

It will just be them like when they were kids. 

In a different world, Wilbur was selfish and wanted L’Manburg all for himself. In this one, Tommy didn’t want L’Manburg at all. In both, TNT is stacked underneath it.

In both, the button is simply waiting for them. 

Tommy watched the fireplace with a listless stare, simply watching it like one watches the ocean when the time to jump draws nearer. The ravine is quiet, a kind of silence that is a calm before the storm, before the waves start to hit the cliff, before the hurricane truly starts. But the thing about storms is that they build up over time; you will know when the storm hits.

“-kidding me, Dream?”

Wilbur’s voice echoed in the ravine as it grew in volume. His voice, usually soft and comforting or brash and fire-alighting, was torn. It sounded like that when Eret was revealed, when the doors opened to the opposing side, when they almost bled out on the blackstone floor. 

There was still a scar on Tommy’s chest.

He made his way up the stairs, his footsteps silent when they were usually loud. It led to the dirt cave like it always did and Wilbur and Dream stood out in the cold, stood out in the night. 

“After fucking everything that has happened, you’re just going to side with Schlatt?” Wilbur screamed, gesturing widely. “What, does any of this mean something to you?”

  
  
“Wilbur, he pulled a contract-”

“That you willingly signed! All we had was a peace contract, nothing in it said we had to defend the other.”

“You don’t understand it, Wilbur.”

  
  
“Oh no, I perfectly fucking understand. All you do, Dream, is gather favors. You don’t care for people, you never have. All you care about is what they can do for you.”

  
  
“Wil-”

  
  
“Well, I owe you a favor. You saved my life, after all, and I was willing to put our past grievances aside. I was willing to start over with you and I was willing to speak up for you in front of my friends. And this is what you do.”

  
  
“Schlatt has something I need, Wilbur. This is my only chance to get it.”

  
  
“Go on then. I hope you’re fucking happy.”

  
  
Dream turned away but paused. “For all it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Wilbur didn’t look at him. “Goodbye, Dream.”

  
  
This is what they get, Tommy realized. After everything that they do, after everything they built, after everything they sacrifice, this is what they get: betrayal and loss. That’s all L’Manburg brought to them, no matter what they did. 

“Tommy?” 

Wilbur was staring straight at him. “Hey, Wil.”

“Did you-”

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“I think I’m gonna go to Eret’s,” Wilbur tried to smile. “They would want to know. I’ll see you, Toms.”

  
  
He walked away. 

This is what they get, no matter what they do. All they get is friends who leave, friends who lie, friends who only say goodbye. And no matter what they give, no matter they say, no matter what they sacrifice, they only ever lose. They lost friends, they lost their country, they lost each other when they were all the other had. 

Tommy left as well, the opposite way of Wilbur. He was tempted to follow, to make sure he was okay but he knew that Wilbur needed time.

Soon, Wilbur would understand that everyone left them. That it was just him and Tommy. 

His feet took him down a familiar path towards Manburg but at the last moment, he turned to the left. It took him off the path, down a road less traveled that was covered with overgrown grass and rocks that slipped under your shoes. It took him around where the walls once stood to the podium, to the hill, to the hidden passageway that only he knew was there. 

To the button that would finally be the end.

Tommy sat down in the chair, the blank walls surrounding him, crushing him, slowly pushing everything closer and closer until it had no choice but to crack, to break. He didn’t know how many times he’s been here, wondering if he should or shouldn’t. 

He just wanted to make Wilbur proud. 

  * ┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈┈•



War was on the horizon. 

Fundy was revealed in the ravine, a journal proclaiming Schlatt’s weaknesses. 

Quackity joined Pogtopia before that but after the festival. 

Tubbo was up again, somehow smiling even when the bandages were too tight against their ribs.

Niki was everywhere, trying to prepare and trying to learn where it hurt most.

Eret visited sometimes but they always stayed in the background, looking over their sunglasses.

Technoblade was in and out of the Nether, his sword sharper than before. 

Dream attempted to visit, tried to explain but he was always turned away.

Wilbur acted like everything was going to be okay.

Tommy knew that nothing would be okay. 

And in the late nights in the ravine, when everyone else is asleep, Tommy and Wilbur stayed awake on top of Pogtopia, staring up at the stars like they held the answers though the two knew they didn’t. 

Tommy and Tubbo watched the sun.

Tommy and Wilbur watched the stars.

“It’s like Chekhov’s gun,” Wilbur said one night. Tommy couldn’t remember what they were talking about, everything has been a blur. 

  
  
“What’s Chehkov’s gun?” Tommy sleepily mumbled, leaning against his brother.

“A literary device,” Wilbur continued when Tommy looked up at him. “It says that every element of the story must be important to the plot. That anything, if mentioned enough, will eventually come into play.”

“That makes no sense.”

Wilbur only laughed. “In the play this first appears in, the main character has a gun the entire first act. At the very end, he uses that gun to kill himself.”

“That’s depressing.”

“That’s life, Toms.”

Tommy stared up at the stars. They blinked and twinkled but didn’t answer his question about the TNT simply waiting for the redstone connection and for the trigger.

The trigger of Chekhov’s gun. 


	9. the grip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War comes with no forgiveness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for the Author who knows who they are. 
> 
> Our stories are almost over, my friend.

To say that the world could be united in peace would be lying; the world could only be united in horror for humanity can only understand suffering. 

War had torn apart this server at the very seams. It had destroyed homes, built walls, and ruined buildings that were considered history. And yet, it seemed to be the only thing on the server that brought people together. 

L’Manburg started as peaceful, as a haven for those to get away from Dream’s “tyranny”. However, he was never one to relinquish control so easily so he fought back. That was when L’Manburg truly became a country, the people truly became its citizens, and a new order was established. Without the war for independence, it is unlikely that L’Manburg would truly be the country it is today. 

But war isn’t the only horror and people can be the problem too. 

Maybe, it’s always humanity at fault. They’re the ones that get attached, that find people they love and care for. They’re the ones that end up losing those people, those pets, those family members. They’re the ones that go insane, that die, that will change everything.

In the end, it all comes down to who each person is and what they will do. 

•┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈┈•

Wilbur stood on the same hill he stood on when he watched over the festival. It seemed so long ago now, watching the fireworks fly with Dream and Eret by his side. His trenchcoat billowed in the early morning wind, the chill from the sea crawling at his ankles in an attempt to draw blood. But Wilbur could only look at L’Manburg.

He can still remember standing there against Dream, calling his bluff. He can still remember screaming in rage, war and independence on the horizon. He can still remember walking away, refusing to look at Eret. He can still remember the war finally coming to an end; they were free.

But he can still remember the election, feeling confident and so sure. He can still remember calling the numbers, that confidence turning into a bravado. He can still remember reading Schlatt’s name out, that bravado slipping away as well. He can still remember getting exiled; the arrow was lodged in his torso. 

The phantom pain never truly goes away and you can never truly forget. 

“Wilbur?”

  
  
Eret didn’t wear their crown anymore. They set it down on the throne and left the castle with Wilbur when they realized that Dream was no longer with them; who would want a throne from a man who couldn’t stand with his own people?

  
  
“Are you okay?” 

Wilbur didn’t look at them when they stepped besides them. “Just...thinking.”

“About what?”

The wind screamed again. 

“Everything.”

Eret hummed. “Do you think we can win?”

  
  
“If Dream was still with us, there wouldn’t be a doubt in my mind,” Wilbur admitted. “But he- he…”

“I know. I think I know how you feel now when I betrayed you.”

The air is cold. 

“At least when you betrayed us, you tried for remorse.”

•┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈┈•

The button was waiting. 

Tommy wanted nothing more than to press it and watch it all crumble

Techno opened his vault for them all.

He hoped that he wouldn’t come to regret it and have to use them. 

•┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈┈•

War, like a storm, slowly brewed. But like all storms, there was a starting point.

The battle of the tower. 

Tommy and Wilbur stood side by side like they did once before but they couldn’t have been further apart. Maybe at one point they could see eye to eye but that time was a long time ago. Now, Tommy has a spark of insanity in his eyes and Wilbur lost his youth.

Everything is different.

Dream appeared, an ender pearl’s abilities infinite, and raised his sword against Wilbur who, despite the others’ words, didn’t wear any armor. But when the time came, he couldn’t. The sword was lowered and Dream moved on to the others.

Wilbur could only stare after him. 

•┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈┈•

Time is running out. You don’t know what will happen when the clock hits zero but all you know is that it’s bad. You fear the end and everyone does. And while it might not be the end but rather, the unknown. You fear what you can’t see and you can’t see that much because the fog is too heavy and your eyes are growing tired. 

Sleep. The time will be over when you wake.

•┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈┈•

They were fighting. Sometimes, it seemed like that was all they did. Arrows flew above them in graceful arches and swords swung down to either meet its match or skin. Blood started to flow freely and it filled the cracks in the earth; the blood couldn’t be told apart and maybe, they were both losing. 

This is war. What did you expect? 

They will continue to fight for a long time but to tell you would simply be stalling.

Time is running out.

•┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈┈•

“Schlatt?” 

The sound of splashing liquid filled the caravan. Schlatt somehow pulled his head to look up at him but the president’s breath was poisoned and so was his mind.

“Lover boy,” He said as some form of greeting. “What the fuck are you doing here? I exiled you.”

  
  
Wilbur could only look on in disbelief. “Schlatt, there was a war. By coming here, you surrendered.”

Schlatt took another swing. “You think that matters?”

  
  
His grin became too wide. “If I die, this country goes down with me.”

  
  
A crossbow exchanged hands and an arrow poked at Schlatt’s forehead. Wilbur carried the crossbow with a shaky hand for it was always hard to say goodbye to a friend. 

“Go on, lover boy,” Maybe Schlatt was insane. “Maybe I’ll pull a Wilbur and come back from the dead.”

  
  
Wilbur pulled the trigger. 

•┈┈┈••✦ 『✙』 ✦••┈┈┈┈•

“I have to step down,” Wilbur looked over L’Manburg, his L’Manburg. “I was never meant to be president and I tried to force a hidden tyranny with a rigged election. So, I will hand the presidency, as Tommy doesn’t want it, to Tubbo.”

Wilbur stepped down and let Tubbo pass with a smile. He returned to his seat next to Eret and even though he told himself not to, Wilbur glanced back. 

Dream smiled. And while Tubbo gave their final speech, Wilbur left with him and Eret. 

“That was brave to hand over the presidency,” Dream started once they were a safe distance away. “I thought you would take it right away.”

  
  
Wilbur shrugged. “I don’t think I’m cut out for it.”

  
  
“What are you cut out for, then?” Eret asked. “Your presidency seemed like everything to you.” 

“It used to be,” Wilbur glanced at his two friends, at part of his family, at Dream. After all, it's hard to hate the ones you love. “But maybe a cottage far away from the server sounds better.”

“What about Tommy and Techno and L’Manburg?” Dream can’t help but ask. 

“I’ll visit. I’m just tired and I need a break. They’re my brothers, they’ll understand.”

“If you’re sure,” Eret smiled, placing their hand on Wilbur’s shoulder. “I think the cottage will be nice.”

“And if you’ll have me,” Dream looked at the two of them. “Then I’ll be happy to retire.”

Sometimes, the ending was okay.

Wilbur looked back over at L’Manburg. The people were gathered in the streets and they were cheering and they were laughing and they were finally free. Tubbo smiled down on all of them and Wilbur knew that they would be the best president L’Manburg has ever seen. 

But as Wilbur looked over the crowd, he couldn’t find a familiar head of blonde hair. He looked around frantically and he saw Tommy leave the crowd and walk around the podium, disappearing from sight.

Wilbur dismissed himself from Eret and Dream’s company and followed his brother. The greenery was rugged and unkempt but a path for it seemed like Tommy had walked here many, many times. The sounds of celebration, of happiness faded away and day was turning to night. 

There was a tunnel dug into the hill and Tommy slipped in, Wilbur following a safe distance behind. But when he saw the small room his little brother was held up in, Wilbur’s breathing was suddenly too harsh and his heart beat too fast. 

Stray TNT littered the floor, somehow all connected by red stone. A button was in front of Tommy who sat on a chair, head in his hands. 

“Chekhov’s gun,” Tommy whispered to himself over and over and over again, the ramblings of a mad man. And Wilbur couldn’t stay silent. 

“What are you doing?”

  
Sometimes, the ending was unknown.    
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (the next chapter is the final one. the 11 will be an epilogue)


	10. the bullet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very big and not blown up L'Manburg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my chehkov's gun.

_ Who decides who gets to live and who gets to die? _

“Wilbur?” Tommy looked back and if anything, he looked like a ghost. “Why are you here?”

  
  
“I should be asking the same question,” Wilbur entered the room fully, eyes flowing over the TNT and mad scratching on the walls. “What is this place?”

  
  
“You should go.”

_ Is it us who decides with our choices and your words or is out of our reach, always out of our reach? _

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what that button does.”

People forgot that Wilbur got their father’s stubbornness as well. 

“It doesn’t do anything!” Tommy tried to plead as he stared at his brother. “Please, Wil, just leave. I want to be alone.”

“I’m not leaving you alone.”

_ Then again, everyone has to die sometime. That’s the one thing that is constant.  _

Tommy let out a laugh that was borderline crazy. “So, now you care? Why don’t you run off with Dream and Eret? You seem to like them better.”

“You’re my brother, Tommy,” Wilbur yelled. “You come first. Just tell me what it does!”

  
  
“It’ll blow up L’Manburg,” Tommy’s eyes lit with something unknown. “Seven stacks of TNT lie underneath it and it will destroy everything. It will be the death of L’Manburg.”

_ Everyone will die. Might as well accept it. _

“You can’t be serious.”

  
  
“Oh, but I am, Wilby,” The nickname, usually soft, seemed more like a weapon. “L’Manburg has done nothing but hurt us. It almost killed you. It deserves to fucking burn in hell.”

  
  
“But we worked so hard for this,” Wilbur was begging now. “Please, Tommy, just step away from the button, you don’t have to do this.”

Tommy looked up and maybe, he was crying. “I just want to make you proud, Wilby.”   


_ Everyone will fall. Might as well accept it. _

“Toms-”

  
  
“You remember Eret, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

  
  
“You remember what they said, don’t you?”

  
  
“I do.”

“Well,” Tommy rested his hand on the button. “I guess this is goodbye.”

_ Everyone will leave. Might as well accept it. _

“Tommy-”

  
  
“It was never meant to be.”

A click.

A hiss.

A last second thought.

_ Everyone will lose. Might as well accept it. _

The button room exploded into itself and the ringing echoed in their ears. The TNT hissed and set off, a deadly game of dominoes that once started cannot be stopped. The first domino was hit and the rest were soon to fall. 

And while Tommy tried to take it all in one final time, he was tackled to the ground.

_ You cannot change it; you cannot fight it.  _

Who knows how long the explosion went off but the ash would have yet to settle when Tommy opened his eyes again. His view was blurry, unsure and nothing truly came into focus. But it was snowing. 

When did it start snowing?

His ears still rang with a high pitch noise and everything hurt. His head pounded and his back burned and everything seemed wrong.

  
  
_ It is simply fate; it is simply destiny. _

Tommy tried to get up but something pushed him down, something held him down. Maybe it was debris, a piece of the wall, maybe the podium had fallen on top of him.

But as he looked down, all he saw was a mess of brown curls. 

_ And your choices and your words cannot change that fate, that destiny,  _

“Wilbur?”

The body on top of him didn’t move.

“Wilby?”

  
  
Carefully, Tommy sat up and gently pushed the body off of him. 

Wilbur fell to the ground, his face covered in cuts and burns and blood was dripping down his temple. His hands hit the ground uselessly and his eyes were closed, like he was only asleep. However, there was blood spilling over his body.

He was bleeding.

_ All you can do is watch. _

Tommy’s breath was fast. “Wilbur. Wilbur!”

Oh, history is repeating itself over and over and over again. 

“Wilbur, you dickhead, wake up!”   


_ All you can do is hope. _

Wilbur’s eyes fluttered open for maybe the last time. He coughed weakly, blood dripping down his lips and chin. His eyes were clouded over, glazed, and the last time Tommy saw him like this, they were in that forest and everything changed. 

“Wil-” Tommy pulled his older brother closer. “Wilbur, you’re gonna be alright.”

  
  
“You and I both know that’s a lie.”

The snow continued to fall but at closer inspection, it was simply ash of a country that burned too bright and died.

_ All you can do is pray. _

“No!” Tommy was screaming now and his hands were bloody, pressing down on the huge wound on Wilbur’s stomach. “No, you’re going to be okay and we’re going to be fine.”

It’s funny how blood and death can clear insanity behind people’s eyes. 

“Toms,” Wilbur lifted his hand to rest it on Tommy’s face, leaving behind a trail of blood and soot. “Tommy, stop. It’s not going to work.

“Shut up, it has to. It has to work. Why did you do that, Wil?”

Wilbur tackled Tommy to the ground. Wilbur shielded his little brother from the blast. Wilbur took the bit that Tommy was supposed to take. 

Oh, to see the same thing happen, a sacrifice for a life.

_ It’s like putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger.  _

“You’re my little brother, Tommy,” Wilbur said like it was obvious. “I gotta protect you.”

“But-but you’re going to die,” Tommy was crying now. When did he start crying? “Because of me.”

  
  
“Listen to me, Toms. If there was a chance that I could go back to the day we got exiled, I would do nothing different. I would still take that arrow for you, I would still cover your escape, and I would still tell you to go. I’m your big brother, it’s my job to watch out for you.”

_ Pull the trigger.  _

Time was running out. 

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I know. But maybe this was meant to be.”

L’Manburg was gone. 

“Wilby?”

  
  
“Yeah?”

  
  
“Are you proud of me?”

  
  
And the game was finally done.

“I’ve always been proud of you.”

Wilbur Soot was dead, once and for all. 

_ Bullet or blank, somebody’s gotta fire Chekhov’s gun in this game of Russian roulette.  _


	11. the end of the game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogues are supposed to be happy, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

The house that Wilbur, Eret, and Dream lived in for months was falling apart. 

And Dream was scared that one day, it would be unrepairable. 

Throughout his entire life, Dream never had a home. He can remember one, vaguely from his youth but any positive memories were overshadowed by the nightmares. But this cabin, this little pocket of haven tucked away in the server, was the opposite. 

When Eret came to Dream, Wilbur’s broken body in their arms, Dream almost said no. After all, why should he care about the conflicts of a country that he fought so hard against? But Eret said please and Wilbur looked half-dead and Dream said yes. 

So, they built a cabin together, keeping Wilbur hidden away in the tallest room until he woke up. And when he did, Dream almost regretted saying yes. 

But that all changed. 

They found common ground. They began to laugh. They began to feel like friends. 

Friends that no one expected. 

They spent many nights in the living room, around a fire, staring at the stars, on the floor of Wilbur’s bedroom and it was like they were kids again. The wars, the betrayal, the pain fell away and they were only Dream, Eret, and Wilbur. 

But no matter how hard they hid, eventually everything came crashing back.

And now, the idea of retiring and living in this home in peace was forever shattered because Wilbur was dead. 

Dream entered the home with caution. No has been here in two, three months now. L’Manburg was being rebuilt with Tubbo as president and for the first time, Dream tried to be nice. He was the one to find Tommy in the button room, clutching his brother’s cold body. He was the one who helped Wilbur get a proper burial underneath L’Mantree. 

And at his funeral, Dream gave Tommy back the discs. 

He didn’t see a reason to have it anymore.

The house was overgrown and nature seemingly had taken over the kitchen and hallways. Dream’s eyes caught every corner, every dent, every mark because each was a memory and each was...happy.

But no matter how happy they were, they still brought tears to Dream’s eyes because he could never go back. 

The stairway was rickety and unstable but Dream still climbed up it, ignoring when one of the stairs broke away and fell. It led him to a hallway with three rooms. 

Two of the doors were open. One was closed. 

Dream opened it. 

And for a second, he expected to see Wilbur, sitting by the window and playing the guitar softly. 

There was no one there.

The floor creaking underneath him, Dream sat down on the bed. He smiled and grabbed a sheep plushie that was dyed blue.

Wilbur called him Friend. 

Setting the plushie down on the floor, Dream then grabbed Wilbur’s guitar that was left behind. He said that he didn’t want it broken in Pogtopia. He also grabbed a familiar red beanie from his bag and a torn apart L’Manburg flag.

Tossing the bag on his shoulder onto the floor, he then pulled out a jar of redstone, sprinkling it onto the wooden floor in the shape of a circle. He made a smaller oval in the circle before another circle in that oval, the shape resembling an eye. After, he placed the four items around him.

But in the middle, he left a totem of undying. 

Finally, he took out a small black book and he knew that the deal with Schlatt was worth it. 

“Hold on, Wilbur,” Dream whispered. “I’m coming for you.”   
  
  


_ The game was over.  _

_ There was a gun left on the table, still smoking.  _

_ There were no bullets left in the chamber but then again, were they ever actually there? _

_ The game of Russian Roulette is a game of chance, of luck. There would be one bullet in the chamber, the players would spin it before putting the gun to their head, pulling the trigger.  _

_ All you could do was hope that you got a blank, not a bullet.  _

_ And the game was done when someone was dead.  _

_ So, watch, hope, pray.  _

_ For is it a game of chance or is it a game of fate?  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while i am sad to see this story go, i just want to thank you, the reader, for being here, for reading, for just enjoying the story i made. if you enjoyed this, click on my profile and you might find something else you like :)
> 
> i love you all <3


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